


Fallout

by CountessOfLovelace (Original_Cypher)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, angry Cap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-04 00:58:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19195876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Original_Cypher/pseuds/CountessOfLovelace
Summary: If you asked people that had met Boy Wonder in their lifetime, Tony bets you wouldn’t find one to think he was even capable of losing his temper and yelling, let alone have screaming matches with hot headed tech nerds. And yet.***Iron Man goes off script,  Captain America boils. The situation resolves itself in a way that varies from the norm.





	Fallout

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlreadyPainfullyGone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlreadyPainfullyGone/gifts).



“...-Absolutely _hopeless_! When, if not when in life or death situations, can we expect you to act like an adult?!”

It’s funny how Captain America stays cool headed and focused in the face of terrible odds and alien invasions, but throw Tony Stark and his quick thinking into the mix, and _Steve Rogers_ loses his shit entirely. If you asked people that had met Boy Wonder in their lifetime, Tony bets you wouldn’t find one to think he was even capable of losing his temper and yelling, let alone have screaming matches with hot headed tech nerds. And yet.

“Oh, you mean like getting involved, risking my butt and saving the city? _Again_!” Granted, sometimes Tony needles Steve for the sake of argument and because his ears go all red when he gets mad and it’s _hilarious_. But most of the time, he shouts back because he’s genuinely angry at the absurdity of the situation.

“You disobeyed a direct order!” the comms screech with feedback.

Tony feels Nat cringe against him and readjust his grip. It would be a shame to have come this far and let her get hurt _now_. Even Black Widow can’t do a cat’s landing from seven stories up. “And?!” he growls back. “Did you miss the part where I saved my teammate’s life?”

“You got blown up!”

They come within sight of the group. The remaining Avengers are standing in an area full of rubble, but it’s contained, and most of the park and the street around is unaffected. Which means it’s already teeming with gawkers. Captain America is standing in the center, the others a careful few paces away from him.

Oh, he’s _fuming._ He makes quite the picture, shoulders squared and fists balled, huffing and puffing with a glare that gets clearer the closer Tony flies in. He is the picture of an avenging angel, ready to smite. It’s quite impressive, _glorious_ even. Makes you wanna shiver and cheer all at the same time. But while Tony loves having this amount of sheer power and _presence_ by his side when they all run into battle, having it directed at him is not his favorite pass time.

Honestly! Steve is going all Avenger on _him_. Hello?! Same side!

“The _suit_ got blown up. _I_ got thrown on my rear,” he corrects. He finds the distinction quite crucial here, given that he’s alive and all. “Which, admittedly, is a bit humiliating. But Widow is not explosive proof, so maybe you should be glad we got lucky! That you know I have our team's back even when you're just human and can't see the future!” he grouses, fed up.

Any other time, he might be able to control his anger better and try to appease Steve rather than antagonize. But right now, his own nerves are also frayed. He jumped into action, terrified he wouldn’t get there in time to save a friend’s life. Then there was the blast. Yes, he’d expected it, hence the jumping in in the first place, and he trusted the suit. But it _hurt._ It was frightening. He was so rattled, the hairs on his arms have yet to stand back down. The suit carries on being an asset, it prevents anyone from seeing his hands shake. It helps keep his arm steady when he lands and helps Widow down. Jesus, he needs a drink.

Nat jumps off, muttering something about damsels, then takes a few steps back to look at him.

Tony takes in the sight. He landed on the edge of the crude circle the group had formed around Cap. It’s now changing shape, reforming, as people step closer. “You really okay, Stark?” Clint asks.

Uh….

So maybe it looked even worse than it felt? Maybe _he_ looks even worse than that?

It’s one thing to have Steve get mad because he didn’t follow orders – really, you’d think by now he’d be used to Tony only following the right orders and ignoring the ones he disagrees with. It’s another to have the entire team look at him like they expect him to cough up blood and collapse any second. By the way, worry, on the big green Hulk face? Unsettling as fuck.

Natasha, closest to him, is peering at him with her head cocked. “Tony?”

Seriously? He carried her all the way here, while eloquently defending his frankly heroic decision making. She _has_ to know he’s fine. And Cap, though vibrating with anger, is also waiting for the answer.

Fuck. They’re _worried_. He scared them.

He flips the faceplate off, meeting Steve’s eyes first. Something twitches in the Captain’s face, like he didn’t expect to be met with a contrite expression. Tony knows they won’t have a screaming match here, in full view of the crowd, even if they’re standing far back. But this isn’t over.

He gives Nat a small smile, he can’t help the cringe of pain in it, because he may need Dum-E to pilot hydraulic shears to get him out of the suit this time, and isn’t that just a terrifying thought?“I’m okay,” he tells her. The comms are still on, so his soft spoken voice carries to them all. “Knocked a few neurons loose, but that's nothing I wouldn't do bumping my head in the lab. Or on an open kitchen cupboard .” Gives a concerned looking Bruce a smile. “I'm sorry I scared you,” he tells no one, looking in the spaces between them. “I was mostly focused on Nat.”

Clint heaves an audible sigh. Tony sees them all, one by one, turn to look at Steve, waiting on his cue. Eventually, and if only just so he doesn’t feel like a scolded kid unable to meet a grown up’s stare, he has to look the team leader in the eye. His glare is still burning hot, many intense emotions swirling there. His eyes are still slightly too wide to be qualified as a temper _in check_. “Cap?” Tony tries.

Steve doesn’t _exactly_ growl through clenched teeth, but it isn’t far off. “I hate you so much,” he snarls, then stomps the few paces between them and kisses the breath out of Tony.

Various things of different magnitudes happen virtually at once. Several gasps reach Tony, through the comms and directly. Most of Tony’s face attempts to express surprise – slack jaw, eyebrow raised, the works – of which the effect is severely lessened by the way his eyes fall shut in a pavlovian response to _hey! Kissing!._ Clint makes a sound like he's in pain. If he were fully functional, Tony would spare a thought to agree with the shock and another to be offended – fuck you Barton – but as things are he's a bit preoccupied. Steve's lips! _Ho_ _ly_ _capcicle_. Maybe he did get a concussion and started hallucinating. The screams erupting from the crowd are so loud and sudden, it feels like another blast.

Thank god they're not close enough to have a good shot of this on their phones, especially will all the dust in the air. But there might be paps or news photographers around by now.

Steve pulls back only after a few seconds, eyes flicking over Tony’s face as if checking for damage. Still, it was long enough to kiss Tony quiet and silly, and _then_ for Steve to angrily make the kiss deeper, and much filthier. Steve's _tongue_. Tony has now met Steve's tongue and... Wow.

He blinks. Both of Steve’s hands are still tilting his face up. "You, uh...” Tony licks his lips. “contradicted yourself a little bit," he can't help but point out. Sass is a default setting in general, but especially when he's taken aback. All the more if he’s lost his footing entirely.

His words, of all the noisy things currently happening around them, seem to make Steve realize exactly what he's just done. His eyes widen and the look of pure horror on his face is... well, frankly, _hurtful_.

But Steve’s reaction is also a problem Tony needs to deal with, _now_. Chain of command be damned.

If Steve is having a Big Gay Freakout, he deserves privacy, and he can't have that here. If he's about to keep flipping his shit at Tony for earlier, or apologize, or in any way deviate from Captain America Public Image, Tony needs to get him out of here. Stat.

"Tony-…"

"Cap. C'mere." The way he extends his arm and foot are a clear signal of what he means, but Steve hesitates, mouth working soundlessly. "Cap. We're in public. Let me fly us out **.** "

Glancing around, he catches sight of Natasha and Bruce's expressions, morphing from amusement and surprise to concern.

Steve steps up to him, fitting against the armor in a practiced move, and the crowd gets impossibly louder. Tony readjusts the faceplate, wraps his arm around Steve's waist and blasts off.

It’s only a few seconds after their departure that their teammates start talking. "I didn't dream that, right?"

"Anyone else think this was a long t-..." Tony cuts in loudly over Clint’s voice, both not wanting to know what they think and not wanting anything they might say to push Steve any harder. He barks an order for Jarvis to switch them both to a private channel.

“Done, sir,” comes Jarvis’ quasi immediate response, along with the absence of Clint’s voice, which… _bless_.

“Tony, I am _so_ sorry...” Steve starts speaking instantly, twisting so he can – seriously?? - look Tony straight in the faceplate.

“Stop. Steve. _Stop_.” Tony can’t have this. He looks so earnest and panicked. It’s so very deeply unnerving to witness. Yes, he’s loved messing with Captain Goody Two Shoes in the past, but to see Steve Rogers so upset is… unnatural. It rankles. It’s not right. “Steve. Are you _okay?_ ”

“Yeah,” Steve starts to say. “No! I'm not okay! What have I done?! Are _you_ okay?”

“Yes. We established that.” Tony struggles to keep a squirmy Captain America in his grip. What is it with superheroes forgetting they cannot fly once they’re precariously clinging to him. “I'm fine. Look, the suit is even working okay.” _Okay_ is a bit of a white lie. – In truth, it’s exhibiting signs that tell Tony he’s looking at a few days and nights in the workshop, which is on the one hand, a _ugh_ inducing chore resulting from his line of work, and on the other, _what he loves_. –

“No, I.... I can't believe I...”

Tony deposits them as gently as he can onto the landing strip of their current headquarters, and assesses his partner. Steve is looking anywhere but at him, eyes flicking all over the place in a way that tells Tony he’s folding inwards and panicking. “Okay. Hey. Steve.” He touches Steve’s arm, faceplate and helmet swinging off. “Listen to me. I know you're from a different time but there's nothing wrong with-....”

“I know.” Steve heaves a shaky breath, then huffs it out. He glances at Tony and then looks away again. “Gay is okay. I got it. Buck gave me the cliff notes. This isn't.... This isn't what this is about. God, why aren't you pissed at me?!”

Tony doesn’t understand the look in Steve’s eyes when he rounds back on him. His eyes are pleading, like he’s not only asking _why_ Tony isn’t, but like he wishes he was. “Why? Cause you kissed me in public?” Tony waggles both arms in Steve’s direction. If only he wasn’t in the suit, the theatrics really don’t look the same. “I mean, hell, if it helps you work out your aggression, I say-...”

“I didn't ask, Tony!” Steve yells, distress clear on his face. “I... This is sexual assault!”

It stops Tony short. He stares, mouth agape.

He... We wants to say no. But…

Steve has a point.

Technically….

“Okay. No,” Tony argues back. Hell. This is familiar territory, opposing Steve’s point of view. “ _No_. I disagree.” He glares at Steve until the other meets his eyes. “Yes. The impulse was not cool and you definitely should have waited for a sign it was okay or asked but… But... _Steve_.” He takes a step closer, satisfied when Steve doesn’t take a step back. He seems focused on what Tony is saying, like he’s actually listening. “Don’t think of it that way,” he starts. “First of all, I was in the suit. I could have pushed you off. Or stopped you.” He shrugs. “I honestly thought you were going to cuff me on the back of the head and I was going to _let you_.” He ignores the way surprise widens Steve’s eyes then, that’s a reaction to puzzle out at a later date. “So a kiss? Not that bad, all things considered. Even though it was kind of rough, it still sort of feels like I got rewarded for pissing you off.” Steve glares. Tony carries on talking, he can’t let him circle back to self hatred. “Second, context _matters_. Isn’t that what they tell the creeps in bars? Doing that to someone that told you no before, or has clearly shown they’re uncomfortable? _Big_ no no.” The suit gives a soft metallic _ting_ when he flattens his armored hand over the arc reactor. “ _I_ am not drugged. Or unconscious. Or saying no. Nor do I depend on you to make a living. What I _am_ , is a guy you’ve known for a few years now, who’s been a pain in your ass all along. One you know is, in this current state of dress, capable of whooping your perky little enhanced ass, that’s been pushing your buttons and testing your limits since day one because he can’t stand the stuck up perfect golden boy he knows you aren’t… it’s _different,_ ” he takes a breath. “Steve, please, don’t do this to yourself.”

“It was wrong.”

Tony knows his first instinct to retort _So what?_ would not get the reaction he seeks here. “Maybe,” he concedes, instead. “Or badly executed. Or ill timed. Or wrong, like you said. Chalk it up to my bad influence.”

Steve takes in Tony’s lopsided, hopeful smile with an amused snort. Come on, he’s nearly there. He just needs to put his ass on the line, in his least favorite way possible. “Steve. I didn't mind. For fuck’s sake, _I didn’t mind_ ,” he insists, firm and defiant. Because maybe Steve is capable to decide to beat himself up all on his own, but Tony damn well won’t let Steve tell him how he felt about what happened. “You knew it when you did that!” he asserts loudly. “You knew in the suit I was a physical match. You knew I would let you because I wouldn't mind. With all those damn jokes about how fucking perfect you look and behave and how it makes me want to make you crack, make you filthy, make you _misbehave_. You _knew_.”

He’s holding Tony’s gaze now. Good. Steve breathes. “I… Maybe I can believe that.”

“ _Try_. Please.” Jesus, if Tony gets any more sincere he might pull something. “I’ve been pulling your pigtails for ages and it would make me feel really shitty if you ended up hating _yourself_ for it.”

Steve does something with his lips. They tighten a little bit, get a bit more pillow like. It’s not a smile, it’s not a pout, or a face. But soon after follows a small nod, so Tony reads it as agreement, or concession, or promise that he will, _try_ that is.

So with a weary sigh of his own, he steps towards the suit disassembly line. J is smart enough to know now is not the time to comment on how extensive the needed repairs will be. Walking along next to him, Steve loosens Captain America’s collar and – rookie mistake – allows Dum-E to run off with his shield.

Every step of Tony’s liberation takes longer and produces more cringe inducing metal squealing than usual. And, yeah, okay, the entire front of the suit is mostly blackened but that’s… soot. Right? Eager not to go back to the conversation about his risk taking, Tony puts his mouths to good use at what he does best.

Distraction. Diversion.

He catches himself on Steve’s quickly offered forearm when he is tripped by a boot that proves reluctant to relinquish his foot, nearly pitching him to the ground, and grins at Steve. “My All American Knight in Star Spangled… Stark Industries body kevlar.”

Steve groans and huffs at him. “ _Thanks_ is just fine.”

Finally free of the outer shell of gear, Tony pads across the floor on bare feet, hissing at the cold. “Flirting is my favorite way to throw you off, so, about earlier” he reaches his work station, walks behind to his locker and starts eagerly unzipping his protective wear. He works out and all, but he does not look as great as Nat or Steve in a glorified unitard, so. “turn about is fair play.”

“We’re not _five,_ ” Steve argues, just as Tony’s under armor lands on top of his head and hangs there haphazardly. Now, _Tony_ knows a perfect timing. “… or are we?” Steve mumbles to himself, batting the techwear aside. There’s exasperation there, but Tony’s ear is trained. There’s fondness too. Steve is trying not to smile right now. Because everyone is safe, and because Tony managed to diffuse Steve’s misguided guilt spiral.

“Well,” Tony hops from foot to foot as he hikes up a loose pair of jeans over his hips, stepping back into view. “you did tell me earlier I wasn’t behaving like an adult, so…” he gives Steve a shit eating grin as he emerges from his t shirt. It fades quickly.

Shit.

Steve’s got that expression on his face, the one he doesn’t know he has every time he sees Tony shirtless. When he gets reminded that the arc reactor is not just a glow under Tony’s clothes, but that it fits in a literal hole in his chest. That Tony is weak, and he’s human, and he has a bad heart. “Okay. So uh...” Tony talks quickly. “I don't really know what that all meant but. I want to say sorry. Again. I... I get that I must have scared you more than I thought if you just lost control like that.”

Steve lets out a dark chuckle.

Tony looks at him, Captain America outfit loosened around the neck, covered in smudges of dirt all the way up to his hair. He looks tired. Tony feels bad about that, because he knows he made it worse. He looks calm, though, so that’s good. And still, so goddamn gorgeous.

Tony’s never really been one to toe the line. He peers up at Steve, one eyebrow raised and a crooked leer on his lips. “So, uh… what _did_ it mean?” he ventures.

Steve colors, but he doesn’t step away, he doesn’t glare. He scrubs a hand across his face, instead. “Oh, shut up,” it sounds harassed and playful at the same time.

Tony’s smile doesn’t falter, he thinks for a moment. Steve is not walking on. “...’this a _shut up and kiss me_ situation?”

Steve looks up at him. Tony shrugs. He’s offered now. No going back. He can’t unsay it. So, it’s up to Steve.

And eventually, Steve speaks. “Yeah,” he breathes out. And some tension visibly leaves his shoulders when he next exhales.

“Cool,” Tony says. And for once, he does what he’s told.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> I’ve recently started to write a HUGE Stony post Endgame fic (yes, it also fits with 97% of the movie’s canon). I’d love to know if anyone is interested in that, because it’s looking like it’s gonna be a ton of work, so it’d be lovely if I got to share the fun with people down the line. I’m not really sure how alive this shipdom is.  
> In the meantime, THIS was a short that spun out form writing an argument between Steve and Tony for the big project. It's my first post in this verse. I hope you like it.  
> My screenname is an easter egg.  
> ttfn,  
> A


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